All That is Gold
by Robin1231
Summary: Pre-Hobbit. Thorin returns from another failed attempt to find followers to take back the mountain. He doesn't foresee the repercussions his absence had on his family until it is too late.


**Summary: Pre-Hobbit. Thorin returns from another failed attempt to find followers to take back the mountain. He doesn't foresee the repercussions his absence had on his family until it is too late.**

**Rating: T**

**Warnings: Violence and blood.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own ****The Hobbit**** or any of the characters. (I wish…)**

**All That is Gold**

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Thorin's gaze flicked up from the tome lying in his lap as the door of his sister's home swung open with a cheery creak, sunlight accompanied by boyish shouts streaming in on the air to rest on the woven carpet adorning the rocky floor. Dis let out a weary sign and gently pulled the blue strip of cloth from her head. The makeshift kerchief loosed a wave of slightly frizzy auburn hair, cascading down Dis' back, just touching her worn leather belt slung low about her hips. Her face was browned from her days in the sunny market; cracks traced themselves across her visage, detailing her joyous, pain filled life through laugh-lines and stress-wrinkles. As she finally saw her brother in the large chair before the hearth, her blue eyes lightened and a smile spread across her face.

"Thorin!" She cried and threw her arms about her brother in a tight embrace like a small child. "You're back! Oh the boys will be so excited!" She then good-naturedly swatted his chest with an open palm.

"What was that for sister?" Thorin cried, rare grin upturning one corner of his mouth.

"You beast! Why did you not tell us you were home earlier?"

"Then it hardly would have been a surprise now wouldn't it?" Dis nodded and conceded to his point. She leaned over and kissed Thorin's cheek.

"Still. I'm glad you're home." She then bustled her way back to the front door and picked up the wicker basket she'd set down on her way in. It was teeming with an amalgamation of her own unsold wares and purchases for the family.

"You've been gone a long time."

"I have."

"Almost three years this time."

"Aye, it was." Dis frowned and looked at him sharply and in that moment, Thorin was reminded just how similar Dis was to their mother. She stared and waited for further explanation in such a manner that only mothers could accomplish.

"The goblin hoard drew us deep into the caves, Dis. We chased them for months but the filthy creatures evaded us."

"And then?" Dis' hands were curled into fists upon her apron-adorned hips.

"We traveled through the towns and…served as smiths for a time," he finished lamely, anticipating Dis' next, inevitable stinging question.

"And WHY did you choose to travel through towns when you could have returned? And don't you dare lie to me Thorin Oakenshield." She gave Thorin a withering gaze. He sighed and turned his eyes to the flickering flames within the stone fireplace.

"I was searching for those who would follow me to take back our home, Dis."

"For Mahal's sake, Thorin, not this again!" Dis exploded, darkly throwing a carrot back into its basket. "I have already lost a husband and a little brother to that cause. Do I have to lose my elder brother in that way too? Why can't you just leave well enough alone and be happy here? We have a HOME here Thorin. Here! In the Blue Mountains Thorin. Where your FAMILY is. Your nephews. They're growing up and you're missing it Thorin! Fili just turned 23 this year. Did you know that? He loves books—my boy is a reader. He especially loves that one you're holding." Thorin numbly shut the book.

"He single-handedly built that mill down the road and wanted no one's approval but YOURS. And Kili! He just turned 18. My baby is 18 years old and he needs you. Every day, he comes back with a bloody nose or a black eye or Mahal knows what else! He fights because the other children speak ill of you. And since you left Thorin? He barely speaks a word. But he smiles. And he's the best archer his age. Do you know how brave my boy is? He is ridiculed every day for picking up an "Elvish" trait and because he has not yet grown a beard. Fili came back just yesterday and told me he had to protect his brother from a crowd of boys trying to break Kili's bow and cut his hair Thorin! Ever since my husband died, I'd hoped you'd be a father to them, but my 23 year old son is a better father—a better MAN than you, the fighter-king, could ever hope to be!" Dis' face was stained a ruddy red as her speech rose in volume and anger. Thorin rose slowly, turmoil darkening his face. He slowly approached his sister, raised his hand, and clasped her shoulder. A look of cold fury washed over his sister's face. She solidly wrenched her shoulder from his grasp, slapped him across his face and strode out the swinging door back into the sunlight.

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Hours passed and Thorin began to wonder if Dis had packed up the boys and made for deeper in the Blue Mountains to spare them some inconceivable heartache. He felt centuries older as he sighed and dragged a calloused palm over his eyes and through his grey tinged beard.

"Mother said you'd come," came a serious voice from the window. Thorin turned and faced the golden-haired Fili who stood at the low, open window, leaning on forearms crossed on the windowsill. His blue eyes locked onto Thorin's own like they had as a child. But there was something hidden in the dwarf's eyes that hadn't been there before: pain and betrayal.

"Fili," Thorin breathed uncertainly, eyeing the youth carefully, searching for the young, insecure dwarfling that had stared back at him a short while ago. There was no sign of him now, not in this self-assured, strong body that stood defiantly in front of him now. Fili had always been the scholar. The boy who could manage to sit still through the lessons that made Kili squirm with impatience. To see his nephew now, a grim fighting expression on his face, so different, sent a pang of shame through Thorin.

"Uncle," Fili drawled sardonically.

"I have missed you," And until that phrase left Thorin's lips, he had not noticed how true it was. "All of you," his voice cracked now. "So much." The defiance left Fili's stance as he understood Thorin's honesty. He momentarily strode out of view as he rounded the house to the entryway. Once he entered the door, after pausing momentarily, Fili ran and flung himself at his uncle as he had as a boy. Thorin caught him.

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Fili chattered away with Thorin as the two waited for Kili to return home from training. A nervous tension hung over the two dwarves. Kili had always been rather unpredictable to say the least.

"He might be angry Uncle," Fili said softly, suddenly abandoning meaningless chatter. He's been through so much these past years and I—I don't know. I'm worried." Thorin sighed.

"This is my fault."

"Uncle, no," Fili placed a strong hand on Thorin's forearm. "You are merely trying to restore our home."

"At my nephew's expense." Thorin stared miserably into Fili's forgiving eyes, guilt stuffing itself into his throat, stifling all words. "I AM sorry Fili."

"There is nothing to be sorry for Thorin," Fili grinned. "You are family. And you returned. We will survive now, yes? We are together." Thorin clasped his nephew's forearm in a warrior's grasp. The boy nodded encouragingly and Thorin thanked the gods that he'd been granted with such a gracious and worthy nephew and heir.

The door slammed open in the kitchen, startling the two men. Thorin's hand reached unconsciously for his blade, only stilled by Fili's quick hand.

"FILI!" Kili's now unfamiliar voice echoed through the small home. They heard him tromping through the kitchen in typical Kili fashion.

"You'll never believe it!" Kili's inane chatter continued to float into the sitting room. "I shot a deer from a tree fifty yards away AND it was windy AND it was running AND it was—" Kili's voice stopped instantly as he barged into the room and froze, petrified look tracing itself across his face. The boy stood taller than Thorin had imagined. The handsome dark eyes gazed at Thorin through shaggy black hair, a terrified look frozen in their depths. Thorin rose.

"Kili—" Thorin began slowly. Kili's dark head shook violently, back and forth. Thorin raised his hands slowly, trying to placate the angry, frightened young dwarf. Kili's eyes narrowed.

"No." The boy finally said, firmly. "Not you. No." Thorin took a step forward and Kili took two steps back.

"It's me Kili," Thorin tried. Kili merely let out a pained cry and turned on his heel. Grasping a bow he'd just placed on the mantle, Kili sprinted from the room. Moments later, the kitchen door slammed shut. Fili winced and gave Thorin a pitying look.

"That could have gone better." Thorin nodded numbly. "I'll go after him," Fili mumbled quietly.

"No!" Thorin cried hoarsely. "I will," he said as Fili stopped in his tracks. The golden-haired boy who looked so painfully like his father stared at his uncle for a while before nodding and watching as Thorin strode from the swinging door, allowing it to slam shut as his brother had a moment before.

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Thorin strode through town, ignoring hushed whispers and muttered jeering, eyes scanning the crowd for a tall dwarfling with shaggy black hair.

"Thorin." A strong voice commanded his attention. Dwalin suddenly appeared beside his king, muscled and tattooed arms crossed firmly across his chest.

"Have you seen Kili?" Thorin asked quietly.

"What?"

"Kili! Kili. Have you seen my nephew?"

"Thorin, we have no time for that," Dwalin grunted, refusing to meet Thorin's eyes. "The goblins we encountered on the road? They followed us through the eastern pass." Thorin swore and stopped his trek through the crowd, turning to face his friend.

"How many?"

"Two, maybe three hundred."

"Against?"

"Actual soldiers? Fifty. Maybe sixty." Thorin swore again.

"Does the king of the Blue Mountains know?"

"He does. His legion is assembled." The large, bald man gestured towards the flurry Thorin failed to notice along the city walls. "Your men are waiting on your command Thorin."

"We'll fight," Thorin rumbled sparing one last glance through the rushing town, searching for a familiar face as the alarm bells began to ring. A face finally materialized in the swarm. Thorin nodded his thanks to Dwalin before shouldering his way towards the approaching Fili. The young dwarf's face was somber and drawn. "You heard," Thorin surmised.

"Aye, I did," Fili intoned. "If you'll have me, Uncle, I would be proud to fight with you and your men." Thorin's heart clenched as Fili drew a sword from his belt and with immense dignity, bowed his head in the sign of a soldier's respect.

"I would be honored to fight with you Fili," Thorin said gently, placing a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "But I have a task of far greater importance for you." Fili's head cocked quizzically to the side.

"What is it Uncle?"

"I still have not found your brother Fili. The danger is swiftly approaching and I do not want it to find him unprepared." Fili nodded obediently and turned on his heel. In an instant, he was gone. Thorin stood for a moment before another voice broke through his thoughts.

"Thorin!" Dis rushed to her brother, hair blowing wildly from her usually neat braids. "The boys! Where are the boys?" Thorin grasped his sister and pulled her trembling frame to his in a tight embrace.

"Kili ran off, but Fili went to find him. They will be alright Dis. They are safer than we are. You must return home." Dis nodded into his chest. They momentarily tightened their embrace and then she was gone.

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Thorin grimly ran his blade through the wiry, dark body before him, the gruesome squelch accompanying the jerk of the new corpse as he pulled the blade back out barely registering as he spun and beheaded another approaching adversary. A cacophony of battle cries, grunts, and death-whispers wrapped itself around the craggy faces of the mountain and through the thick forest at the base where Thorin and his men now fought, pressing on, jeering as the goblins turned tail and fled. Thorin let out a satisfied grunt and clapped Dwalin on the shoulder as the taciturn dwarf ambled up beside his king.

"Are all the beasts gone?" Thorin rumbled, wiping his sword on the grass beneath his feet.

"A few skirmishes left along the Eastern gates. The forest is still alive with blood," Dwalin replied. Thorin nodded.

"The king's men can finish the work there." Dwalin nodded.

"You still seem troubled, Thorin."

"I do not understand. Why should they attack with so few? I thought they had nearly two hundred. Why should they attack with half that number? It does not make sense." Thorin frowned, eyes scanning the walls of the city.

"Perhaps the creatures are merely as stupid as they look," Dwalin commented dryly. Thorin let out a bark of laughter. He nodded and then clasped the other dwarf's forearm. After a moment, Dwalin turned on his heel and went to tend to the small army of Durin. Thorin exhaled deeply, wearily, and turned toward the pass. A strange feeling washed over him suddenly. Not one to ignore a soldier's intuition, Thorin allowed his feet to lead him where they may. He strode along the outskirts, along the city wall until his feet suddenly stopped at the Eastern gates. Bands of soldiers strode through. Thorin stepped aside and intently waited until the last bearded dwarf sauntered through cheerily, mattock slung lazily across his shoulders, dripping blood along the dirt road. He then cautiously stepped out onto the path and began to walk, following the blood trail. Eventually, he walked so far, he began to feel rather foolish, obeying his own two feet's whim. And then, just as he was about to turn back, he saw it—the sunlight reflecting off a small silver object buried in the fallen leaves along the path. He let out a hoarse cry and flung himself to the earth, scrabbling for the trinket. His hands shook as he confirmed his worst fears.

It was Fili's hair bead.

With a roar, he crashed through the brush, heard clenching as signs of a fight began to surface: smears of blood along tree trunks, hacked off tree limbs, dead goblin corpses. He began bellowing Fili's name, over and over until a quiet, almost imperceptible voice responded:

"Uncle?"

Thorin whirled around, eyes darting, searching for the blonde dwarf. There! Finally Thorin spotted him, back flush against a tree, brush hiding him from sight. Thorin sank to his knees and tore the branches away from Dis' son, pulling his nephew close. He then held Fili at an arm's length.

"Are you alright? Are you injured?" Fili nodded and whimpered. Thorin dragged him into the light. A long, deep gash traced itself across Fili's upper leg, oozing through a makeshift bandage tied tightly across the wound, fashioned from a thin, white overshirt. An arrow protruded from his right shoulder. Thorin breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the arrowhead had gone straight through. Fili's eyes were unfocused and confused. Thorin gently smoothed back his nephew's braided hair and examined the egg sized lump at his temple. He swore as he saw the clear signs of concussion. Dwalin seemed to materialize out of thin air and knelt beside the fallen dwarf. He had a sixth sense when it came to Thorin and his nephews.

"We need to bring him back to Dis, Thorin. Oin will care for him there." Thorin nodded grimly at Dwalin's words and made to pick up his nephew. The boy suddenly began thrashing wildly.

"No! NO! Kili! He's still out there! I have to find him Uncle!" Thorin placed his hands on Fili's shoulders, trying to calm the young dwarf.

"Kili's probably still at home," Thorin intoned softly, but was cut off by Fili's frantic shout.

"NO! He was here! He was here Uncle!" Tears pooled in the dwarf's eyes. "He saved my life."

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Fili strode quickly through the forest, relishing in the sun that trickled through the spaces is the branches. He sang softly beneath his breath as he stepped lightly on the path towards Kili's favorite clearing for target practice. Pangs of worry shot through Fili's mind as he recalled his little brother's broken gaze and white face and the danger Kili could now find himself in. Suddenly, Fili stopped. A feeling of unease gripped his heart. Were it not for the instincts Thorin and Dwalin pounded into him, Fili would have surely died then and there. He quickly side-stepped the goblin that leapt at him from above, drew his two sturdy swords, and sunk one deep into the creature's chest. It squealed in pain and rage. Fili looked on in horror as the gruesome thing wrenched its own body from Fili's sword. With its dying breath, it launched at Fili, tearing at the young dwarf's hair with its claws and gnawing at the thick leather vest Fili wore across his shoulders. Before the dwarf could react, Fili was struck solidly across the temple with a stone, momentarily filling his vision with blinding light.

Fili let out a roar of rage and pain and flung the goblin into a nearby tree where it slid down to its base and tumbled down the slope, crumpling into a heap at the bottom of the hill. Fili grimaced and shook his head. He looked on miserably as one of his favorite beads loosed itself from his tresses and disappeared into the leaf bed. Everything was fuzzy. He blinked heavily before stumbling down the hill after the goblin. Adrenaline swiftly cleared his vision. He skirted around the body and hurried through the brush into the clearing.

"Fili no!" A cry came from somewhere as Fili burst through the tree line. Puzzlement struck Fili moments before the arrow did. He let out a cry of pain as the metal dug itself through his right shoulder. Miraculously, he remained on his feet. Once he blinked the tears from his eyes, he saw a contingent of goblins advancing rapidly. He dropped the sword he held in his right hand and held his left handed short sword as a broadsword. Thorin and Dwalin trained him well in the art of swordplay, but nothing prepared him for this. He parried and thrust and beheaded frantically, but they kept coming. The goblins snarled and leapt, not realizing—or not caring—that so many of their brothers were dying by Fili's sword. Suddenly, an arrow screamed through the air and pierced the neck of a goblin before Fili. _Uncle!_ Fili thought with a note of relief. Arrows continued to rain down with an almost mechanical grace with deadly accuracy. Fili's joy at his uncle's arrival was almost instantly cut short as a white hot pain sliced through his thigh. With a harsh cry, he fell to his knees and then to his side, clutching his bloody leg. He writhed in pain as a rough hand grabbed his shirt and hauled him to his feet.

"Show yourself Thorin Oakenshield!" the goblin holding Fili shouted in a guttural tone. "Show yourself or I'll kill him!" A rustle in the bushes.

"Even if I show myself, you'll kill him." Fili's head snapped up. That wasn't Thorin's voice—it was much too high. But it held the same air of command. "Even if I were Thorin." And Kili, wild and tall Kili, dropped from the trees, a dark oak bow loosely held in his left hand. A roar of laughter washed through the goblins.

"You're probably right little dwarf," the goblin replied cheerily. It then moved to slit Fili's throat. Fili blinked. And then he was staring at a quivering arrow, not two inches from his nose, embedded in the goblin leader's skull. Kili reached his older brother before the creature slumped to the ground. With a strength that defied his wiry frame, the young dwarf slung the stockier Fili over his shoulder and was bounding into the forest before the goblins could scream in fury at their leader's death. Kili sprinted for a few moments before leaping over a rotten log and into a hidden ditch at the base of a tree, hidden by thick brush. He was panting.

"Kili…" Fili was white with pain.

"I know, I know, I know," Kili whispered frantically, tearing off his soft, white shirt. He wrapped it around Fili's leg as Oin showed them. Both froze as they heard the goblin hoard, bigger than they'd thought, pound past their hiding place. Kili sat up with a jolt.

"Fili," he began, horror punctuating his tone. "They make for the mine." Fili's eyes widened. The mine was equipped with several access points into the mountain itself. It was full of riches and so many gentle, simple miners unaware of the danger coming their way. Fili's vision wavered—hindered by pain and tears. Kili gripped his arm.

"Fili, give me your sword," the boy demanded, tone stronger and older than Fili had ever heard.

"My what?" Fili blinked, confusion and concussion throbbing behind his eyes.

"Your sword Fili. They cannot reach the keep," Kili whispered fervently. Fili realized what his little brother meant to do. He tightened his grip on his sword.

"No Kili," he rasped heavily. "NO. Go get Uncle. Get HELP."

"There's no time!" Kili exclaimed, running a hand through his hair. "By the time I get back to the gates, find Uncle, and bring him to the mine, it will be too late Fili." His eyes shone with tears. "They could get Mama, Fili." Fili's eyes closed grimly.

"Then use your bow Kili. They'll kill you! Stay in the trees; stay out of their reach little brother." Kili let out a bitter laugh at his brother's solemn and fervent words. He held up an empty quiver.

"For once, brother, I am out of arrows. That last one killed the beast that wounded you."

"I can't let you die, Ki," Fili whispered, using his brother's old nickname. Kili swallowed and graced the injured dwarf with a gentle smile. He brushed Fili's hair away from his sweaty forehead and gently pulled the short sword from his grasp. Kili kissed Fili's forehead then rose.

"If I'm not back first, send Uncle after me Fi," he said squaring his shoulders. "I expect I'll need help."

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Thorin blanched at his nephew's tale. He and Dwalin shot each other panicked looks. Dwalin, thankfully, took charge.

"Go to the mine, Thorin. I'll take the lad to Oin and send our company to you." Thorin nodded and rose. Fili grabbed his hand.

"Save my little brother Thorin." Thorin nodded and turned on his heel. He sprinted through the trees, cursing as he went.

As he crashed through the tree line, bordering the large clearing that signified the mouth of the mine, Thorin realized what had happened. Kili had managed to overtake the hoard and placed himself between the goblins and the mine. Bodies littered the ground in a tight semicircle around the cave, in a half halo around the mine. Nothing moved. Thorin blindly began moving toward the bodies, numbly walking and picking up pace until he was sprinting across the field. He skidded to a stop. The twisted corpses lay in a tangle, death throes frozen on their hideous faces. Slashes and sword marks pierced each body, heads lay separate from their bodies, everything executed with extreme precision and incredible ferocity. There was no one at the center of the semicircle.

"Kili," Thorin whispered, voice growing into a roar. "Kili. Kili! KILI!" The dwarf leapt over the wall of bodies, into the cave. He leapt back again at the last second as a bent and bloodied sword swung wildly at him from the darkness.

Thorin brought up his sword as Kili blindly swung at him again, parrying the blow and grabbing the boy's wrist with lightening fast reflexes.

"KILI!" Thorin bellowed. The boy strained against his iron grasp until Thorin commanded, "STOP KILI! It's me!"

"Thorin?" Kili asked, voice wavering. He was unsteadily swaying on his feet.

"Yes Kili, I'm here."

"You—you came. I didn't—I didn't think you—you'd come." He dropped his brother's sword and collapsed against Thorin's chest, exhaustion taking over. Thorin grabbed the boy and lowered him to the dusty floor. Tears sprang to his eyes as he held the trembling body to his chest, murmuring comforting platitudes into Kili's hair.

"I—I was so scared Thorin," Kili choked, valiantly trying to stifle the cries that gripped his throat. His body suddenly stiffened. "Fili! Uncle, Fili is hurt!" His body began to writhe in Thorin's grasp. "We must go to him! We must—"

"Kili," Thorin cut off his frantic cries. "Dwalin has Fili. He is fine." The small body relaxed.

"Oh." The voice was small and broken. They sat there for a while, Thorin clutching his nephew, tears clinging to the corners of his eyes. Suddenly he felt a warm wetness seeping through Kili's clothes. He held a hand to the light trickling in from outside the mine. It was stained with blood.

"Kili, are you injured?" Thorin demanded sharply. There was no answer. Thorin quickly gathered the unconscious young dwarf into his arms and leapt into the light of the clearing, over the twisted goblin bodies. As he laid Kili upon the soft grass, he cursed quietly. Slashes littered the boy's face and arms. Bruises painted themselves across Kili's temples and cheekbones. His left arm was twisted and broken in odd angles. And constant flows of blood sluggishly seeped through his tunic. With shaking hands, Thorin peeled the blood soaked fabric from his nephew's chest. "Mahal," he whispered as he saw the deep stab wounds that pierced the young flesh, traveling up Kili's body from his side to his chest. Kili's breath was shallow as Thorin rose and gathered Kili's broken body into his arms. Choked sobs and rivers of guilt flowed from the strong dwarf as he hurried back to the main road towards home and help. He began to murmur choked laments, singing of sorrow and regret. Dwalin and his company stopped in their mad dash to the mine as they saw the two. They parted silently and let Thorin pass, following him as he continued to hold the tiny boy in his arms. They joined him in the chanting song, asking the gods to spare the warrior.

Dis was there at the gate, screaming in panic and grief as she caught sight of the procession, of her youngest son cradles in her brother's arms. Wizened Balin held her arms, preventing her from rushing forward. Healers poured out of the buildings, led by Oin and pulled Kili from Thorin's arms who proceeded to sink to his knees. Once the door shut behind Oin and Kili, Balin released Dis who tearfully composed herself and lowered herself beside Thorin.

"I'm sorry sister. I failed you," Thorin whispered, words thick and broken. Dis pulled her brother close and comforted him in one of his rare moments of weakness.

"Let's go home," Dis strained, eager to be free of the sympathetic gazes and the guilty stares of Kili's old tormentors. "Fili's waiting."

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Fili did not handle the news well, but then again, Dis and Thorin didn't really expect him to. Eventually, he wore himself out and slumped back into his pillow, eyes red and refusing to meet his Uncle and Mother's pleading stares. Thorin's eyes raked over his elder nephew, shoulder and leg expertly bandaged, body shaking with suppressed fears and sobs. Thorin left silently and was holding his head in his hands before the fire in the parlor when Dis sunk into the chair beside him.

"They were heroes today Dis." Thorin's voice was quiet and small.

"They've always been my heroes," Dis sighed proudly. "Just as you've always been theirs."

"They almost died today because of me. Kili still might."

"No, Thorin, you saved them today," Dis said gently, hand on Thorin's forearm. "My boys wouldn't have lived through the night had you not gone looking. They wouldn't have survived the afternoon had you not trained them."

"I swear to you sister, I will never let them hurt again."

"So you will stay here to protect them?"

"I will."

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The room was dark when Kili woke. He felt smothered, weights pressed down on his chest and he could not move. He couldn't even compel himself to struggle. Fear gripped his heart as his mind began to wander. He was back in the mine. Buried? Captured? He blinked frantically until the sleep left his eyes and allowed them to adjust to the dark. He was back at home. In his own bed. He felt like crying. Warm woolen blankets lay across him from his shoulders down. He blinked blearily and shifted his gaze. Leaning against the wall, eyes lightly shut, was Uncle Thorin. Kili frowned and shifted in his cocoon.

"Thorin," he rasped. His uncle's eyes snapped open. A look of relief washed over the older dwarf and in an instant, he was at Kili's bedside.

"You're awake," Thorin whispered gently. Kili was confused. His uncle was never gentle. "You almost died."

"I couldn't let…let them get into our home," Kili stated, emphasizing the last word, turning an accusatory look at his uncle, finally recalling his previous rage.

"I know," Thorin choked, further startling his nephew. "Thank you for saving our home. You are a fierce warrior Kili. And I—I am proud. So proud of you." Kili's eyes shone with tears and in that instant, he became the 15 year old boy Thorin had last seen, clutching the wooden gate as Thorin rode away.

"Do you mean it Uncle?" Thorin replied by engulfing his nephew in his arms, being mindful of his injuries.

"I mean it. You, Kili. You and Fili and your mother are more important than any mountain of gold."

Dis watched from the doorway as her brother wiped the tears from her son's face and began regaling Kili with a story of battles past. Fili appeared behind her, arm holding the makeshift crutch to keep him from toppling onto the floor. Dis smiled at her golden child and shifted her gaze back to her wild boy.

"We'll be alright."

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